


The Sentimentalist

by ponderingthoughts



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponderingthoughts/pseuds/ponderingthoughts
Summary: It's springtime in the Bend and love continues to flourish as Pete and Chasten share a sweet moment in anticipation of their big day.
Relationships: Chasten Buttigieg/Pete Buttigieg
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	The Sentimentalist

Spring in the Bend was always a special occasion. Those who disliked the snow finally grew joyous at the sight of their luscious green lawns again, and even those who preferred the city buried in white powder couldn’t help but fawn over the budding flowers on every street corner. Chasten, of course, was the latter. 

Nothing beat holiday joy and seasonal flavors taking over every local market, but the chance to take advantage of springtime gardening was one he rarely passed up on. And, given it was only his third spring in South Bend, he still had plenty to learn about the flower culture of Indiana in contrast to that of Michigan. 

While Chasten busied his spring break with botanical studies, which consisted mostly of choosing his favorite tulip shade, he yearned to be back in the classroom as soon as possible. It was only a week, but it felt like he had abandoned his kids forever.

At dinner each night of that restorative, yet stressful week, Peter would grow weary at the sight of Chasten staring out the window each time a noise came from beyond the thin curtains. He would soon learn that Chasten had convinced himself, for better or for worse, that his students were there; right outside of the window. Just out of reach. 

When that April Monday morning finally came around, Chasten decided his excitement could only be captivated by an exceptional outfit.

As if it were the first day of school, he chose his favorite suit, a navy blue shade his husband fancied, and paired it with a forest green tie busied with a pattern of small corgis. “Playful, yet professional”, Peter would say of his wardrobe choice, as he planted a departing kiss on Chasten’s lips and headed out to his office building in the heart of the city. 

Chasten is no stranger to himself. And, so, getting emotional at school was no newsworthy event. However, he was taken aback by the crystal blue pools flooding his vision the moment he stepped into his classroom an hour before his students would start filing in. 

Looking around at the walls of his classroom, Chasten was reminded of each and every passion project he encouraged his kids to pursue. Messages of encouragement, declarations of self love, and everything few and far between dressed the walls with a powerful presence unlike any other. And, as he set his bag down at his desk, he caught a glimpse of the engagement ring newly decorating his right hand ring finger. 

Less than four months ago, Peter launched took a leap of faith as he gracefully took one knee, in the most secluded and sentimental corner of an airport crowded with holiday travel-goers, and promised Chasten a forever plentiful with love and adventure. In the moment, Chasten’s words had failed. Instead, he shuddered under tears of shock and excitement, nodding his head vigorously to assure Peter that his tears were of the happiest form.

Now, in the classroom he had crafted into a second home, he was overcome with a similar sense of belonging. A bit unwillingly, he let the tears stream down his face and darken the already deep blue shade of his suit jacket. 

Once upon a time, not too long ago, he was the young man in classrooms, belittled beneath the belief that he would never lead a life of value or importance. He learned very early on in his life of hurt that no one if afraid to leave you in the cold when things get tough; even the ones you’d trust with anything. He built barricades of doubt and mistrust that would take significant strides, and plenty of time, to begin dismantling. 

But, now, he had stumbled upon a fulfilling career that accepted him with open arms, and was gifted the opportunity to perform in this job and this life with an undoubtedly perfect fiancee at his side every step of the way. For once, he was the one building a foundation of empowerment for others. 

As a teacher, Chasten reminded his kids, frequently and with great persistence, that the most invaluable lesson in life is one of finding belonging and self love, despite all odds.

It would be hard to admit to himself, but Chasten had done just that, and masterfully so. 

Eventually, he yielded the tears to a stop and dried his face, leaving blotched red skin around his eyes and cheeks. The irregular stains would persist on his skin throughout the school day, but they were hardly noticeable when his cheeks stretched to make room for his smile. Somehow, the smile managed to be far too large for his petite face, while being far too small for the joy he contained within. It was one issue Chasten, frankly, was immensely grateful for. 

Chasten spent all of Monday, and the majority of the first week back from break, conversing with his students, encouraging them to describe their experiences over break in any form they felt comfortable with. The students shared anything from paintings to second-rate play productions with their peers to bring their vocational week to life, regardless of how eventful or eventless they may have been.

As the week began to dwindle, and Chasten grew more pressured by his superiors to continue with the regularly scheduled curriculum, Chasten eased into full teacher mode. By Thursday, he was back to lesson plans plentiful with time allotments that he made with the acceptance that they may always be broken. 

Needless to say, the school day moves painstakingly slow when real work is to be done. So, by the time 1:30 rolled around, both Chasten and his kids alike were guilty of looking to the clock regularly, hoping 2:30 would spring upon them now, rather than later. 

Most days, Chasten remembered to silence his phone before class had even begun. He never worried, though, given the fact that he received frequent texts from only Peter and his mother, both of whom worked taxing day jobs that busied them during Chasten’s teaching hours.

At 1:42, however, a vibration radiating from his cluttered desk across the room cut through the silent room with deadly precision. The phone repeated its short vibration three times over until it mimicked the sound of an alarm; a warning sign to the dangers of what those three messages might hold. 

Chasten was quick to betray the panicked fear on his face, replacing any sign of it with a grand open-mouthed smile. As he walked calculatedly to his desk, he asked his students to continue reading the assigned article individually or within their chosen groups. 

He reached for his phone but, upon first try, it toppled out of his sweaty hands which had only grown more perspired as his worries amounted. Drying his nerves onto his pants, Chasten grabbed for the phone again, succeeding this time to turn it around and illuminate the screen with a single click. 

A wave of relief, and stupidity, washed over his blushed face as he realized Peter had taken a half day today. Reading the messages, he grew giddy with each passing word. 

“Ok I got the suits”

“That we’re going to wear”

“When we get married!!!!’”

Chasten audibly laughed under his breath as he wondered incredulously how he could forget Peter reminding him that morning of his plans to pick up their suits. It was the only thought pervading his mind as he walked into school early that morning. Yet, it slipped from his consciousness entirely upon his students entering the classroom, eager both to learn and to leave. 

His sentimental thoughts threatening another show of waterworks were halted by a raised hand coming from the center of the classroom. 

“Mason?”, Chasten asked.

“Uh, Mr. Glezman, we’re having some trouble with this article. Are you busy right now?”, Mason replied, a subtle smirk flashing upon his youthful face.

“No, I’ll be right over. One minute”, he responded, as he responded to Peter with an exclamation attempting to verbalize his internal excitement, and powered down his phone. 

When he reached Mason’s group, which consisted of a gaggle of four lively kids, Chasten leaned into the square of desks to meet the height of their heads. 

“Mr. Glezman…”, one of the kids whispered, capturing Chasten’s undivided attention. The room had taken on an active spirit as each group partook in their own hushed conversations. Chasten looked to the kids in front of him and realized very quickly that he was not about to answer a question on schoolwork.

“Who just texted you?”, Mason asked while all four of the students leaned further in, sealing their conversation from the ears outside of their own. 

Chasten breathed a quick laugh. “And what does that have to do with the article, exactly?”

“Was it the mayor?”, the girl across from Chasten inquired, as her whimsical tone succeeded at teasing the grown man, who had turned pink in the face. 

“I’m fairly certain that that article is not about the mayor or our texts…” Chasten paused, giving into the kids and their growing snickering. 

“Yes, it was the mayor. Are you all happy now?”

“No.”

Chasten sighed, losing once again to a gaggle of children who held far too much power over him.

“What could you possibly want of me?”

“What did he say?”, another boy in the group asked.

“It’s not the gossip I’m sure you’re looking for, but he texted me about running errands. That’s all.” Chasten straightened his posture, preparing to walk off in the other direction. “Are we done here?”

“I guess…”, Mason said, with disappointment dressing his voice and downtrodden face.

At times, Chasten despised how easily he had let these kids run the classroom, time and time again. But, more-so, he was open to any excuse to talk about his fiancee, and he loved his kids for giving him plenty of those moments.

“The wedding suits”, Chasten whispered, leaning into the group. A sigh, both of exasperation with these gossip-driven children and of his admiration for Peter, escaped his parted lips. “He texted me to tell me he picked up our wedding suits”.

“Ooooh! Mr. Glezman is getting married!”, Mason teased, while the others added their own childish jeers. They continued until the entire class had turned their heads in the direction of Chasten, who had resorted to laughing while attempting to hush the kids who had successfully distracted the entirety of the class.

“I truly cannot stand any of you”, Chasten joked. “Go ahead and take a break, everybody”, he continued, addressing the class at large.

He headed in the direction of his desk, turning his head every few steps to see Mason’s group pointing in his direction and teasing him as if they were all immature middle schoolers.

Lifting his phone off of the desk, Chasten saw his beaming face reflected in the black mirror. His white teeth beamed as his smile only expanded with every passing second. These kids never failed to even make embarrassment a sweet, laughable moment. And for that, he was so so grateful.

Now, it was ten minutes until the final bell would ring, and Chasten wondered how the time always seemed to slip away when he wanted to save it so dearly. 

Just as quickly, it was the end of the day, and Chasten was packing his car to make the ten minute trip back home. At the door, he paused, and allowed the dogs to collect excitedly at the door.

He opened it suddenly, spooking Truman into reclusion, while Buddy launched forward with an out of body elation. Chasten dropped to the floor to immerse in furry love, abandoning his bag on the floor nearby. When he finally stood straight again, Chasten was taken aback to find himself with face to face with a grinning Peter.

Peter’s hands were held behind his back as he leaned into Chasten, kissing him softly. Before they could exchange pleasantries, Peter began.

“Are you ready for this?”, he asked, his shoulders raising with anticipation. Behind him, the two suits, wrapped in a thin veil of protective plastic, hung low, barely missing the ground. They moved against one another, producing a disruptive noise in the process.

Chasten’s eyes lit up under the sight of his soon-to-be husband and the giddiness he embodied simply by holding two suits in his hidden hands. Drawing his hands to his warm face, Chasten nodded gently, preparing himself for the emotions that would inevitably shake every bone in his body with unmatchable joy. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Peter situated one suit in each of his hands and propelled them to his front. The two suits rested evenly between the two of them. One was a deep, navy blue. The other, a slightly lighter shade of blue, but absolutely complimentary to the first. Both suits were simple, but effective enough to rob Chasten of his breath for a brief moment.

“They’re…”. He paused, catching his breath, allowing tears to form at the corners of his softened eyes. “Beautiful. Oh my god.”

A heartfelt sob took over Chasten’s body. He trembled under a powerful wave of emotions which somehow managed to replay nearly three years of the best love in this single, brief moment. 

“Love!”, Peter exclaimed while moving to hang the suits on the nearby coat rack. He quickly moved to place his hands on Chasten’s face, delicately drying the continuous stream of happy tears. 

But, Peter fell weak to his adoration of Chasten, failing to will away the tear that began to trail down his love-dazed face. Beneath his thin undershirt, Peter could feel his heart physically swell under a love so sweet; so pure. 

He removed his hands from Chasten’s face, opting instead to wrap his arms around his waist, holding him close while they both laughed at how ridiculously emotional they were for a relatively normal Thursday afternoon. 

Chasten’s sweet sobs subsided momentarily, as he leaned into his fiancee and grasped him tighter than he had anticipated.

“You have no idea how much I love you”, Chasten whispered, bending his words as close to Peter’s ear as humanely possible. “No idea”.

Nuzzled into his neck, Chasten could feel the smile grow across Peter’s neck. He rarely wore his heart on his sleeve, but now it was plastered across his face, and unapologetically so.

After clinging to Chasten, and the moment, for a bit too long, Peter eased some distance between the two of them, allowing their lustrous eyes to meet once again. 

“I think I have a little bit of an idea”, Peter teased, while reaching for Chasten’s right hand. He traced his thumb over the engagement ring that dressed Chasten’s otherwise bare hand. 

When they both calmed from the heat of an emotionally intense moment, Peter noticed Chasten’s face had gone serious. Before he had the chance to question it, a forming smirk on Chasten’s face eased any of his initial worries.

Chasten’s eyes shifted around the room as he allowed an intriguing thought to float around in his head.

“We should have a fashion show”, Chasten remarked, barely above a whisper.

“A what?”, Peter responded. The incredulous look on Peter’s face only encouraged Chasten to continue. 

“A fashion show. We try on our suits and…and like model them.”

A short laugh escaped Peter’s mouth, mostly at the fact that he allowed himself to not see such a Chasten remark coming. Of course he would request a fashion show. Of course he would.

“Ok, absolutely not. I’m fairly certain that that’s against the law of, like, getting married. We can’t touch these until the actual wedding”, Peter replied. Chasten gaped at his argument, fighting every smile that attempted to combat his justifiable shock. 

“Oh my god…”. Chasten hesitated to allow a smile to form and his voice to raise. “You're such a traditionalist!”

The two laughed in unison while Peter’s eyes reflected his internal search for a proper response.

“No, not a traditionalist. I’d consider myself more of a sentimentalist”, Peter said, fully convinced of his argument. Chasten let out a sweet giggle, while he leaned back into Peter’s gentle presence.

“That’s super lame”, he teased, as a rush of pink flooded Peter’s face. A quick glance into Peter’s eyes and Chasten was moving his lips up to meet his fiancee’s. Never, Chasten thought, would he ever grow tired of this man’s sweet, sincere presence. Never.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this was really fun to write and i hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> a special thank you to pristine who gifted me the inspiration for this story (along with so many other suggestions i hope to write into reality sometime soon!!)


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